


Gone Fishing

by chucks_prophet



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Because That May Be a TW for Some, Bisexuality, Catfish - Freeform, Catfish AU, Cute, Dean Joins Tinder, Fluff, Humor, Inappropriate Humor, M/M, Online Dating, Overall, References to Depression, Some angst, Texting, This is the Only Bad Light I'll Ever Write Jimmy In I Promise He is Pure, Tinder, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, post-coming out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 04:22:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15235215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chucks_prophet/pseuds/chucks_prophet
Summary: Jo suggested he join after he came out, because apparently there’s a flaw in the good old meeting someone in-person system nowadays, and after Dean reluctantly hit download, Jo bet him he wouldn’t last more than a few days on there anyway, “knowing you”.Blame it on being a high school dropout or not being able to say no to Jo, Dean fell right into her trap.And now he’s gone fishing.





	Gone Fishing

**Author's Note:**

> So all the "Tinder bios" were made by me and I'm very proud of them because they took some time and detail, so if you wanna repost them, please give me credit. Thank you. ♡

Dean wants to preface this by saying it was Jo’s idea.

Creating a profile on Tinder is like fishing. Sure, there are plenty of fish in the sea, but there’s no way to know what you’re gonna catch until you meet the wriggly bastard face-to-face. And that’s even if you make it to a few words of conversation. Some people you match with take the bait before you even have the chance to cast in a decent hook. Others come in clenching it before slapping you backhanded with their slimy tails and hopping right back into the sea.

But Dean’s determined to stick it out. Not because he’s looking for the one, just to prove Jo wrong… okay, it may be more of a _bet._

Jo suggested he join after he came out, because apparently there’s a flaw in the good old meeting someone _in-person_ system nowadays, and after Dean reluctantly hit download, Jo bet him he wouldn’t last more than a few days on there anyway, “knowing you”.

Blame it on being a high school dropout or not being able to say no to Jo, Dean fell right into her trap.

And now he’s gone [fishing](http://sinceriouslydean.tumblr.com/image/175734385589).

Despite begrudgingly signing a waiver to receive unsolicited sexts and highly suggestive (and borderline creepy) gifs, Dean’s actually proud of himself. He hasn’t put himself on the dating market in a while. He’ll even admit to once being the smarmy, dick-driven men that message him through the app. Being hit on by them is an eye-opener, to say the least. It’s like walking into carnival tent lined with funhouse mirrors: Has _he_ ever been the bane of a poor woman’s clubbing experience? So blatantly desperate and lonely, high off his own helpful hand?

Basically, men make him despise sex now. And he loves sex.

But _hello,_ there’s [one guy that comes across his screen](http://sinceriouslydean.tumblr.com/image/175734380539) as he’s sitting on his bed Saturday night, binge-watching _Dr. Sexy M.D._ , that just may turn around his attitude. He’s so gorgeous, Dean forgets which nurse the surgeon Fabio is currently making out with—and that’s saying something, because Dean knows every nurse like the back of Dr. Sexy’s sexy cowboy boots Dean’s had many a fantasy walking all over him.

He’s right: What _is_ Dean waiting for? Another asshole to message him his sexual S.O.S.?

He swipes.

Not even a second later, Tinder alerts him they’ve matched.

Dean could keep swiping. Play hard to get. But if this guy is as intellectual as he looks, he’ll appreciate an equally stimulating opener.

Which leaves a chem trail of creativity exiting his ears as his screen goes black.

Nothing. He has nothing.

Oh, look! They have gifs of [Dr. Sexy](https://gfycat.com/gifs/detail/DeliciousMellowCub). That’ll do.

 

 

Ten minutes go by. Then twenty. Is that normal?

He picks up his phone again and unlocks his screen to the image of a white, conversation-less canvas.

Maybe he should’ve gone with the gif next to it, panning down to Dr. Sexy’s cowboy boots.

Maybe Jimmy doesn’t even _like_ Dr. Sexy.

No. There’s no way he’s dating someone that doesn’t like Dr. Sexy.

But there’s only one way to find out if he doesn’t. And that’s getting this guy to respond.

When his screen threatens shut-off with a subtle dim, Dean taps on his profile again. Maybe he can find something in one of his photos to use as a conversation starter.

Not only is Jimmy photogenic, he’s a natural charmer, as he can be seen talking into a microphone in the second picture. It’s black and white, which you think would dull his features. Instead, it enhances it them, from the small creases in his knuckles as he’s wrapping his right hand around the speaker, to the bigger ones creating pools in his three-piece suit. Even each individual speck of dark stubble gathered around his neck is emphasized, like a reverse island leading to the plush ocean of his mouth.

And of course, there’s a light above his head—because what angel is complete without his halo?—highlighting every other strand of hair, even the strays. Beneath that and his pensive, equally creased forehead are his eyes, packed with glowing white orbs from another light source in front of him.

The third photo is more light-hearted, featuring two giant guinea pigs perched on each broad, trench-clad shoulders of his like the bronze lion statues in Budapest (a reference Dean only knows because his brother studies abroad). On the left shoulder is one as stark white as Billy Idol’s hair in the 90s, minus the teasing, with even whiter eyes. Above its head is the angel emoji. On the right is its foil: a jet black guinea pig with ballooned-out hair and laser red eyes and teeth flaring. That one appropriately has the devil emoji over its head while Jimmy channels his inner Kronk, appearing both scared and conflicted.

The rest of his photos are more basic, featuring him with who Dean assumes are family and friends, hanging by the pool, or at bars. He’s smiling shyly in all of them, which intimidates Dean a _little_ less.

But not enough to the point of tangible conversation, apparently, because he sends another Dr. Sexy gif.

Five more minutes pass and Dean gets a ping. He fumbles for his phone and curses when it falls.

Jo: _Any luck?_ 10:03pm

Dean sighs from his bedroom floor, typing back,

 _Not yet i’ll keep u updated_ 10:04pm

Another ping sounds as he’s picking himself up.

_Sam sent an attachment._

“Seriously?!”

He loves his brother. Really, he does. But does he have to hear from him _every time_ he stumbles onto another tourist trap?

Oh okay, this one’s actually pretty cool.

Sam: [Thought of you](http://www.clipart.net.ua/showimg.php?id=4792) _. Remember that time you tried to ride Larry?_ 10:05pm

Dean: _i think i have those same shoes. &_ _i’ll have u know i kicked Larrys ass… after u left_ 10:06pm

Sam: _Conveniently._ 10:08pm

Dean rolls his eyes. That’s when it hits him.

He opens Tinder again to the same lonely chat box and types:

**I’m in Barcelona right now riding with the bulls, because running alongside them is overrated.**

Satisfied, Dean throws his phone across the bed and returns to his scheduled programming. Dr. Sexy is currently seducing the new nurse at Seattle Mercy outside his latest patient’s room. He has… leukemia? Chicken pocks? Dean doesn’t remember. All he sees is Nurse Aurora, with her crimped blonde hair and rack that’s proof of the surgical expertise of Dr. Sexy.

She twists his stethoscope around her finger. He initiates the famous pensive hair tuck and shifts his gaze to the floor before not-so subtly raking his eyes over her body. They’re close enough to—

_Ping._

Dean releases the breath he doesn’t realize he’s been holding as he reaches for his phone.

**J: A rebel. I like it.**

No way.

He sits there, baffled and just guffawing for a solid minute before remembering to type back. **D: Don’t go stealing my brand now.**

It doesn’t take long for Jimmy to ping his phone again:

**J: I wouldn’t dream of it. But I may have to invest in a healthy stock. (; What’s up, handsome?**

Dean smiles at the pet name. The way it both flares up his chest and has his heart beating faster, it’s definitely something to get used to, but is far from undesired.

**D: Not much, just watching Dr. Sexy M.D. You?**

**J: Huh, that’s weird. Because I could’ve sworn I’ve been talking to him this whole time. (;**

Dean laughs. Definitely a charmer. Two can play at this game, he thinks as a blush rises to his cheeks.

 **D:** **Unfortunately the doctor’s out, but I can give you my number for the time being… you know, in case of an emergency.**

**J: Sounds perfect.**

Dean receives a text almost immediately—at the same rate his smile leaves his face.

 _(815) 454-1010: What’s the matter? Should I book a physical? (;_ 10:35pm

 _Oh i think u need a physical alright,_ Dean furiously types, _from a licensed therapist._ 10:36pm

 _(815) 454-1010: Oh c’mon, don’t be such a prude. You asked for this._ 10:37pm

 _well now i’m asking u to fuck off. Think u can manage that request?_ 10:39pm

 

Dean deletes the thread, but not before sending a screenshot of the last part to Jo.

 _is this what women have to put up with?_ 10:41pm

 _Jo: Unfortunately. Sorry, Dean-o. :/_ 10:42pm

 _i should be apologizing on behalf of all men. god we suck_ 10:44pm

 _Jo: Try not to get too discouraged, alright? Plenty of fish. Love you. Night!_ 10:45pm

 _love you too_ 10:46pm

~.~

Dean doesn’t remember what time he passed out, but he wakes up with a killer headache.

Dean used to get them a lot when he was in high school. Along with the insomnia. And the nausea. Just as he’d repressed the urge to puke every day, he repressed his sexuality. Things got a little easier after dropping out of high school, only because he no longer had any obligation to be anywhere.

Eventually, he shut himself off from the world, and that helped. He slept, he ate. The headaches disappeared. But where his physical symptoms subsided, his mental spiraled out of control. He realized he was still hiding who he was, just comfortably. By the time he wanted to come out, even just for _fresh air,_ he was too depressed.

That then reinforced his physical symptoms, except instead of insomnia, he became a hypersomniac. Instead of undereating, he overate. Instead of headaches, he got migraines, which can only be described as giant rainclouds equipped with thunderbolts of every shape and size, along with blinding lightning storms.

So needless to say, when he feels that headache throbbing against his skull, he knows what it means. Ibuprofen won’t cut it. He knows what he needs to do.

He never thought he’d say this, but he’s going back on Tinder.

Groaning, he reaches for his phone on his nightstand. He opens the app and starts swiping, even as he’s still blinking the sand from his eyes.

Not even half a dozen people in, he pauses. To say [this one](http://sinceriouslydean.tumblr.com/image/175734375294) catches his attention is an understatement.

That bio fills Dean with dangerous rage. “Genuine offers only.” The irony.

He should just move on. He’s not worth it. But Dean can’t pass up this opportunity. He has to stand up for himself this time around.

He swipes.

The screen flashes their two profiles with an explosion of confetti.

He swiped.

Jimmy, if that even is his real name, had the nerve to swipe on Dean. Again.

Did Dora not teach him anything as a kid?

Alright, Dean thinks, cracking his knuckles on the stubbled blade of his jawline. Round 2. He readies his engine, stretching his fingers across the dimly-lit mark. He sets, revving it up with a few practice choice words into the textbox, and, after resetting his word count and starting from a more modest scratch, he’s off:

**D: Usually I'm not interested in dick pics, but I’m glad you sent one earlier so I could confirm the set of balls on you. I mean, really, two profiles with pics of the same guy? And on the same platform? How stupid can you be?**

**D: And what’s up with the new name by the way? “Castiel”? Really? That’s not a very convincing alias.**

Unlike the first time, “Castiel” responds within a minute: **I’m sorry?**

**D: Can’t even apologize correctly. You’ve probably been lying for so long, you don’t even remember how to.**

**C: I would apologize if I knew what you were talking about.**

**D: Oh, that’s rich,** Dean all but practically punches into his keyboard, **So what’s your strategy? Pretend like you never meet any of the people you catfish just to get your dick out there one last time? What are you, some kind of voyeurist? Do you get your rocks off sending strangers your junk?**

**C: Look, I’m sorry this happened to you, but I can assure you you have the wrong guy. And frankly, if someone is using my photos, I think I have the right to be a little incised myself. Send me your number.**

**D: Like HELL I’m gonna give you my number again.**

**C: Okay, fine. Here’s mine: (785) 515-5252**

Hmm… this number is local, unlike Jimmy’s. Either this guy’s getting slightly better at covering his tracks, or…

Dean shoots him a text.

 _okay what now?_ 9:31am

 _i swear to god if the attachment thats loading is another picture of ur dick i will find it and cut it off myself_ 9:35am

(785) 515-5252: _[Better?](https://www.picmog.com/media/1251542690613880785_2603154536)_

 9:36am

 _how do i know u didnt just rip off the poor bastards snap? at least stick ur tongue out or something_ 9:37am

 _(785) 515-5252: Fair enough._ 9:38am

 _(785) 515-5252 sent a_ _[video](https://tenor.com/view/misha-mishacollins-filter-snapchat-snapchatfilter-gif-5525512)._

 _… okay thats kinda cute_ 9:43am

 _well… hi_ 9:45am

Cas: _Hello, Dean. (:_ 9:46am

 _sorry for going off on u like that_ 9:49am

Cas: _No, no, I’m glad you told me. Besides, I would be angry too._ 9:51am

Cas: _Speaking of which, can you send me his profile so I can report it?_ 9:52am

 _Oh right. Gimme a sec_ 9:53am

 _Attachment SENT_ 9:56am

Cas: _Oh my God. He aged me four years!_ 9:59am

 _haha I didnt even notice that_ 10:00am

Cas: _This guy truly is a monster._ 10:01am

 _U shoulda seen his dick_ 10:02am

Cas: _That bad?_ 10:03am

 _U know when something gets caught in the garbage disposal_ 10:05am

Cas: _Oh God._ 10:06am

Cas: _I hope I’m not being too forward… but_ Cas is typing…

 _U wanna see a photo of me?_ 10:07am

Cas: _Possibly. Maybe. Just a little._ 10:13am

 _i mean it’s only fair…_ 10:14am 

 _i dont[take selfies](https://weheartit.com/entry/207229625) very often so dont get used to it… (; _ 10:17am

Cas: _Wow… you really are gorgeous._ 10:36am

 _hey i thought I’d have to call the police there for a sec_ 10:38am

Cas: _I mean, it was enough to warrant a cardiac arrest, but… I’ll be honest; I just sat here for almost twenty minutes trying to think of something more eloquent to respond._ 10:41am

 _well thank you… yeah i’m not very good at accepting compliments. I can deliver them pretty well tho_ 10:45am

Cas: _I’ll happily apply to be on the receiving end of that._ 10:46am

 _u dont have to apply, youre hired. Seriously ur pretty hot_ 10:47am

Cas: _Just “pretty” hot?_ 10:49am

 _*very* pretty hot… okay maybe i’m not as smooth as i like to think i am_ 10:52am

Cas: _You suffice. (; Plus, your Tinder bio makes up for it._ 10:53am

 _yesss – a kindred spirit! so ur Billy Joel fan_ 10:55am

Cas: _Well… no. Not that I hate him, I’m just sad and sweet. Some refer to it as a “hopeless romantic”._ 10:58am

 _well then i’d like to know you complete. (; When r u free?_ 11:00am

 

 

Dean makes sure to text Jo the following Friday to update her after their first date.


End file.
